


To Run Out of Words

by steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeb



Category: Inhumans (Comics)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 06:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11685735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeb/pseuds/steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeb
Summary: A one-shot based on a memory in "The Annals of the House of Boltagon" that can be read as a stand-alone.Medusa would never know how close he came to killing himself.





	To Run Out of Words

"What are you building, brother?"

Maximus shuffled through the pages of notes he scribbled the previous evening, making a few last minute corrections before scanning them to send to Blackagar inside his anechoic chamber. It was a strange request, some kind of pulley system, but Blackagar did not say what he would use it for.

Blackagar shook his head and tapped at a screen on his side of the chamber. Satisfied, he downloaded the image and the calculations attached. It was more than a simple pulley system, he rigged it to also shut off many of the chamber's monitors when his heart rate slowed to a particular number. 

It wouldn't take him long to build, a few hours once he had the correct pieces. Some he would have to request, others he could improvise with items already in his chamber. Then he would have to reprogram the monitors, which would probably be the most difficult part of his plan: convincing Karnak to show him how without alerting his cousin to anything would be tough. Maybe it was good that Blackagar was unable to speak--his voice wouldn't waver and give his plan away.

"Have Mother and Father visited you yet today?" Blackagar shook his head. "When was the last time they did so?"

He counted on his fingers then held them up to the divider. _Four._

"Four days? That isn't so bad, Mother has been-"

Blackagar stopped him by shaking his head, holding up the number four again and then drawing lines as if he were looking at a calendar. Once Maximus understood he was legitimately surprised, appalled even.

"Four _weeks_? By Randac, Blackagar, that's terrible."

Maximus may have been at odds with his older brother for most of their lives, but he had to acknowledge the injustice in their parents' treatment of him. Locking him in a chamber for virtually his entire life was one thing, abandonment was another entirely. Even Maximus visited at least once a week, if not more frequently. True, much of the time he spent aggravating his brother but for some days it was the only interaction Blackagar had. Attilan's scientists spoke with him often enough, most often to ask that he roll up his sleeve for a daily injection of vitamins and medicines that kept him alive. Staying in the chamber meant he had practically no immune system and he was unable to acquire natural sunlight. Underneath his suit, Blackagar's skin was porcelain white.

He was 16, almost 17, and the only time he'd been outside his chamber was for the first few months following his birth. He threw a tantrum as an infant, as all do, and destroyed an entire laboratory. The moment he stopped they placed him in a soundproof testing cart and kept him in it until a larger room was created. As he grew the scientists added rooms and devices to serve as replacements for caregivers, but Blackagar had no memory of being touched by something that was not a machine. 

But once he finished his rig, he need not worry anymore. Throne or not, Blackagar did not want it if it meant living in so much isolation. Two more years of living in such a way seemed unbearable, and the rig would help him end it. It was designed to help him hang himself.

Blackagar was not a fool; he designed it so that once his heart rate slowed to a particular rate his monitors would go into a dummy mode that showed false readings so the scientists would not be alerted. It was also connected to the muzzle he wore whenever something needed to be placed in his chamber by someone else. Plenty of people entered at various times, but they were not allowed to touch him. Blackagar had very little memory of any kind of touch at all.

The muzzle had a digital filter that cycled oxygen into the mask; a similar, albeit reversed, version was created for his cousin Triton after he underwent Terrigenesis and nearly died when he could no longer breathe without being in water. Instead of oxygen his cycled water, allowing him to be outside his own giant tank. Triton, however, could still speak. Blackagar had to remain silent even with the muzzle on his face in fear that it would not be strong enough to contain his voice.

The mask would have to retain its sound proofing abilities in case Blackagar choked or gasped as he died, an automatic reflex he had no way to control, but he would have to kill it's oxygen flow. That would take some engineering, which Maximus knew how to do. His little brother, only 14, already excelled at tinkering and engineering. Blackagar was proud of him.

He typed out his idea onto a screen and sent it to Maximus, without telling him the intent. Maximus read over the note and saw through it.

"Brother, you'll suffocate without the oxygen intact, be reasonable."

Blackagar placed his hand on the divider, the closest gesture he could make that resembled a plea. Maximus looked at it again, then down at his pages of notes, and everything fell into place.

"You want to _intentionally_ suffocate?"

Blackagar looked to his feet and barely nodded. He typed out another brief note and sent it to the other side of the divider. _I can't live like this anymore, Maximus._

They stared at each other for a long moment, Maximus' heart pounding and the palms of his hands sweating. He knew he should tell someone, definitely Mother and Father, but what would they do? Even when Blackagar was seriously ill they refused to enter the chamber. Would they enter it to collect their son's lifeless body? 

A darker, sinister thought entered into Maximus' mind: without Blackagar, Maximus would then be the heir to the throne. 

The thought made him momentarily sick. But if this is truly what Blackagar wanted...No, he refused to be an active contributor to his brother's suicide. If Blackagar wanted to die, he could figure that part out on his own.

Instead he would wash his hands of the matter. He already gave Blackagar what he wanted in designing the rig, that was all that Maximus would give him. 

As Maximus considered the request, Blackagar typed another message. _Please don't tell Mother or Father._

Maximus shook his head. "I have no reason to tell them, if they do not care enough to visit you for four weeks. But your lady must know."

Blackagar's eyes widened and he froze. Medusalith. He did not consider her in his plan at all. They were arranged to be married whenever Blackagar was permitted to leave the chamber, but he only met with her a few times. She was beautiful; he loved her hair and just listening to her voice. In training her to become queen, however, her visits were sporadic and infrequent. 

Could she ever grow to love a silent king who could never talk to her without killing her? It was unfair to her. In the event of Blackagar's death, she would be free to fall in love with someone else, someone she could hold conversations with or someone who could at least speak without obliterating entire planets. 

Blackagar shook his head once again; better to end the relationship, and his life, now before they became too involved with one another. 

Maximus attempted to at least dissuade his brother from his plan, but all Boltagon men were stubborn and bull-headed when they wanted to be. The conversation ended when he threw up his hands and stormed out of the lobby of the chamber, tossing the pages of notes behind him. 

He head for his workstation in his own chambers to calm himself down. Tinkering and inventing always made more sense to Maximus than interacting with other inhumans. As he plod along with his head down, hiding his aggravation, he physically ran into Medusa heading towards the anechoic chamber.

They bowed to one another. "My lady Medusalith," Maximus mumbled. She returned the greeting, noticing the irritation in the prince's face.

"Your highness, you seem displeased. Are you well?"

Maximus waved her off. Medusa may have been older than him, but he held the higher title. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Frustrated with Blackagar, I suppose."

"Is he ill? I was on my way to visit him if he permits."

"Oh, I'm sure he would definitely permit it, seeing as our mother and father don't seem to care to do so. And he _is_ ill, ill at heart. A visit could do him well before he carries out that ridiculous plan of his." Maximus didn't realize it until the words left his mouth that he'd been rambling, something he did more frequently as of late. Strange fits of energy overcame him every few weeks that kept him tinkering for days on end with little sleep and talking almost constantly, as if he needed to do so to ensure his racing ideas would not be forgotten. 

"What plan? What is he going to do?"

Maximus paused in his sudden monologue to verbally change course. "Nothing, my lady, it is unimportant."

"Maximus, what is his plan? I can see it in your face that you are covering something." She rarely used his name anymore, not since their ages were in the single digits. 

"Visit him and see for yourself, woman, his life is not mine to decide whether he throws it away or not."

Medusa's hair wound tightly into a braid as she considered his words and grew to understand them. "Is he...he's going to kill himself?"

Maximus moved as if he wanted to answer her, then clapped his mouth shut. The shock and sadness on her face was too apparent for him to continue speaking, he certainly did not mean to hurt her feelings.

Medusa pushed past Maximus, forgetting decorum that dictated the prince leave first, and hurried to the chamber that housed Blackagar. She called his name as soon as the main door to the visiting lobby opened, banging on the pane when she could not immediately see him.

"Blackagar! Blackagar, answer me!"

She paused to look at the pages she accidentally stepped on, examining them with what Maximus told her in mind. They were plans for a rig Blackagar would use to hang himself.

Her worry increased tenfold when there was still no sign of movement inside the chamber. Medusa wanted to call for help but feared that help would not arrive in time, instead she examined the chambers control panel and slapped at a button she saw one of the scientists use to open the chamber door. When she was given permission by Agon to begin visiting Blackagar, she was told that she was not allowed to actually enter the chamber itself. At the moment she did not care, Agon be damned.

The door opened, too slowly for her preference, and Medusa ran inside. Blackagar drew her a crude layout of the chamber once; she was curious what the rest of the rooms looked like since she was unable to see for herself. She knew that the small area where Blackagar visited with people led to a short hallway that branched into three rooms: a bedroom, a small room with bathing facilities, and something of a catch-all room where Blackagar studied and maintained his physical regimen, as well as meditated each evening. The dining area where the family ate together was larger than all four rooms combined.

Medusa checked the smallest room first, then the multipurpose room. The entire chamber smelled like cold sterilization and lacked any kind of warmth. If Medusa had to spend more than a few hours in the small space she would likely lose her mind.

She found Blackagar seated in front of his bed, the soundproof muzzle covering most of his face. Medusa breathed a deep sigh of relief when she could see that his eyes were open and his chest rose rhythmically. He looked up at her, shocked and panicked all at once as he realized that the viewing pane did not separate them.

He scrambled away from her, trying to put as much distance between them as the space would allow. She approached him slowly as if approaching a caged animal, her hands up to show she was not a threat.

Medusa stopped with about a foot between them, close enough that she could see details the dividing pane obscured. Blackagar's eyes were blue, but not a solid blue. His eyes held flecks of various hues, giving them the appearance of a gem of some kind. She did not know what to say to him in that moment, instead she allowed him to move first.

He tentatively reached out with his hand to take hers, withdrawing it once before Medusa held it out for him to take. The skin of his hand felt surprisingly soft and thin, most likely from the lack of sunlight. Blackagar examined her hand as if he were worshiping at the temple of Randac, caressing her palm and each finger.

Medusa then realized that this was the first time he touched anyone in over fifteen years.

She allowed him to continue his examination of her hand, watching his eyes marvel at something she took for granted her entire life. He then reached for a lock of her hair, which he was fascinated with since the moment they were introduced. Blackagar timidly ran his fingers through the lock of hair, letting it go only to resume holding her hand. 

Medusa held his hand, then released it to reach for the muzzle covering his face. She knew what he looked like without it; they "shared" a meal together once during one of her visits. Blackagar jerked his head back and shook it, but Medusa stepped closer. "It's okay, I'm not afraid."

As she unlocked the muzzle wrapped around the back of his head, they were close enough that Blackagar could smell whatever perfume she wore. Since he had no experience with anything outside his chamber, he had nothing with which to compare the scent. He only knew he loved it.

The muzzle clicked apart and Medusa tossed it into the bed. "There, no more of that." The conversation with Maximus replayed in her mind, but here Blackagar stood, unharmed and alive. She thanked the ancestors that she could still look into his eyes.

Blackagar brought her hand to his lips, shaking as he did so, and first kissed her knuckles. Medusa blushed deeply, unsure what the protocol for the situation would be, and deeper still when Blackagar turned her hand over and merely placed it against his cheek. It was a simple gesture of comfort that he craved. 

"Maximus told me...I mean, not directly, but I was worried and..." Her voice tapered off, but then she squared get shoulders once again. "I don't blame you."

Blackagar furrowed his eyebrows as if asking what she meant.

"I saw the notes that Maximus left outside. After being in here alone for so long, I don't blame you for wanting to die."

He mulled over her words, suddenly ashamed of his plan. He looked to his feet to avoid her gaze, but she placed both of her hands under his jaw so he would look up again then pulled him into a hug. "It's alright, you don't have to be strong all the time. I don't expect you to be."

Blackagar froze, listening to her, then absolutely shattered. Not only was this the first hug in his life, but Medusa was also the first that saw him as a regular inhuman, someone who just needed love and acceptance. She held him as he silently wept into her shoulder, caressing the back of his head. A king was only as strong as the queen supporting him.

When his sobs ceased, they pulled apart somewhat and she looked around his bare room. He had a few books scattered around, a pile of clothes tossed to one corner, and a map of Attilan covering a wall. "May I see the rest of your chamber? I only remember what you drew for me. I still have the picture, it's in one of my books." They both blushed at the thought.

He gently took her hand once again and led her into his multipurpose room to show her what he did to occupy himself throughout the day. He had a desk for completing his lessons, a small med center to keep himself fit and receive the daily injections of vitamins, and a small area that contained something Medusa did not expect: art supplies. Blackagar liked to draw.

Most of what he drew were illustrations or the images he saw in books, a few were of his parents and Maximus. A single drawing was of Medusa, one he kept separate from the others. She picked up the drawing and smiled at him, pleased with the fact that she made Blackagar blush and fidget. "These are beautiful," she whispered to him, only for him to point directly at her.

_You are beautiful._

They regarded each other once again, unsure of what to say to one another. When the moment seemed to drag, Medusa cleared her throat and returned the drawing. "I noticed that, sometimes when you talk with Maximus, you use certain gestures for different things. Can you show them to me?"

Blackagar mulled over the idea and nodded. If it meant that he could spend time with her, he would teach her every sign and gesture he knew. And when he ran out of words, they would make their own.


End file.
